


When Sparks Fly

by fly_me_away



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arthur is an idiot, Cute, Dark Merlin (Merlin), Fluffy, M/M, Magic Reveal, Merlin is an idiot, Merthur - Freeform, angsty, lots of feels, they're both idiots
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-09-01
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-04 11:27:13
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,400
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20470256
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fly_me_away/pseuds/fly_me_away
Summary: Uther Pendragon is dead. Morgana is missing after attacking Camelot. Arthur is on the brink of death, and getting closer every passing minute. Merlin is going to do whatever it takes to save him, but the cost of what happens next may end up being more than he could ever have imagined. In an undending war between dark and light, good and evil, can one ever truly win - and what happens if it does?





	1. Prologue

It was a dark time for Camelot. Morgana had revealed herself as a sorceress, allied with her sister Morgause and intent on bringing about the downfall of Uther and the Pendragon dynasty. She had raised an army of the undead, and with it attacked the castle. She had nearly succeeded - Uther was dead and Arthur was on the brink; cold, grey, clammy hands grasping for his heart, and stretching closer and closer with each passing minute. But it had all gone wrong, for Morgana, at least. The chalice providing the power for the enchantment on the undead had somehow been broken, an army of thousands reduced in an instant to nothing but dust and ash, drifting sluggishly away in the breeze. Part of the citadel had crumbled, and both Morgana and Morgause had vanished in the rubble, their fates unknown. For the time being, however, Camelot had been saved. Again. 

And again, the great savior to whom Camelot owed so much, such a great debt compiled over the years, remained once more unacknowledged. After all, he was nothing but a simple serving boy - the personal servant of the Crown Prince, or rather, King, yes, but a simple servant nonetheless. 

Yet this boy, with his crooked smile and dark raven hair, his piercing blue eyes that crinkled at the corners, though from happiness or sadness no one knew, and his ever-present rumpled neckerchief, was far more than met the eye. Merlin was his name, the young physician’s apprentice. But he had other names, too. The druids called him Emrys, for that is what he was - the greatest sorcerer ever to walk the earth, and the last dragonlord ever to live. 

Greatest sorcerer ever or not, at the point in time that our story now moves to, Merlin did not feel great. In fact, he felt quite the opposite of great, whatever that might be. Ungreat? Nongreat? Antigreat? Ah yes, that’s right - awful. Downright, undeniably awful. There were many things behind this horrendous awfulness building up inside him, crashing and surging, then welling up and forcing its way down his cheeks in a flood of tears that he tried as hard as he could to restrain, leaving him gasping for air and squinting blearily through red, bloodshot eyes. 

His master and best friend, Prince- no, King Arthur, was on his deathbed, the former King Uther and Arthur’s father _was_ dead, and it was all because of magic. Magic, which Merlin didn’t know if he dared use to save Arthur’s life for risk of being caught and executed; and which, if he did survive, Arthur was sure to hate with a vengeance for the rest of his life for all that it had taken from him, ruining Merlin’s hopes for a world where he could live freely, as himself, without having to fear for his safety because of his identity. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

These hopes were what sustained Merlin through so many grueling days and long nights, when he wondered whether what he was doing and how much he was risking was really worth it. And now, they were on the verge of being lost forever. 

And to top it all off, because just one life-changing, earth-shattering dilemma wasn’t enough, the universe had gifted Merlin with another trouble - his feelings for Arthur. Over the years that they had been together, it was common knowledge throughout the castle that they had become more than just a master and a servant. They were friends, close friends, and though they rarely admitted it, both cared very deeply about the relationship that they had formed. 

But Merlin had come to realize that he wanted more. He longed for something deeper, something closer, something more intimate and more meaningful with Arthur. Though it pained him to accept it, he knew what had happened. He had gone and fallen in love with the arrogant prat, and there was no going back. Sure, he didn’t exactly have high expectations for their future together; fate simply did not like to let him hold onto happiness for too long. He would get a taste, like a fingertip dipped into a jar of sweet, golden honey, but as soon as he reached for more, the jar would fall and shatter into a million sparkling shards suspended in the sticky amber. 

For example, his first and only girlfriend, Freya? He had loved her, and she had been cursed to become a bloodthirsty beast by night. And then she had been killed, just days after they first met. The only time he had ever let the walls around his heart fall down, just a little, a knife had slipped through the cracks and cut him to pieces, so he had vowed to never again endanger himself or someone else like that. Someone like Arthur. 

Futile and pointless though it would be to bring up his feelings to Arthur, Merlin simply couldn’t bear to watch him slip away without ever knowing how the young warlock felt. And the small part of him that still clung to a sliver of hope wondered - what would Arthur say? Is there a chance, even the slightest, that he might feel the same way? And what if he did, what then? Could there ever actually be something between them? 

Unlikely though it seemed, the heat burning in Merlin’s chest swelled just at the thought of being closer to Arthur, at being able to show how much he cared in some way other than witty remarks and lingering glances. That thought gave him something to hold onto, to hope for, when there was nothing else for him amid the darkness that was overtaking his life. Arthur was his light, his beacon, cutting through the murky blackness that was ever sending smoky tendrils reaching for him, encircling him. Arthur was all of that and more, and Merlin wasn’t going to give that up without a fight.


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin finally finds something that may save Arthur's life - but will it work?

“Merlin!” Gaius’ voice was muffled through the wooden door to Merlin’s room, but audible nonetheless. “Come here, I think I may have found something!” Merlin grunted and lifted his head from where it had been resting on one of many open books strewn around him, the rough page sticking to his cheek for a moment. He rubbed his eyes and blinked dazedly around the room, then scrambled to his feet as he remembered suddenly what he and the old physician had been up nearly all night searching for - a cure for Arthur. 

At that very moment, Arthur was up in his chambers, in the exact same position as he had first assumed five days ago when he had become bedridden, unable to move. He had been grazed by a poisoned dagger during the fighting; the unknown poison was extremely powerful, inflicting such harm from a mere scratch, and Arthur was lucky that a scratch was all that it was, allowing him to last as long as he already had. But even the fit young prince could not hold on for much longer, and time was running out. 

“Well?” Merlin said, rushing to stand by Gaius’ side, breath caught in his throat. “Is this it? Do you really think it will work? Can we save Arthur? How long will it take? What if-” Gaius silenced the stream of questions with a pointed look, then returned his attention to the small text lying open in front of him.

“According to what it says here, this spell, if performed correctly, can cure even the most deadly of poisons. Unfortunately, it requires something that I am not sure we have. This cure can only be administered by- well, by a kiss, and the caster must truly _love_ whoever it is they are trying to save. I’m sorry, Merlin, but we may have to keep looking.” The tired lines on the old physician’s face suddenly became more pronounced, sadness pooling in his eyes. Merlin, however, had a grin slowly stretching across his lips, the usual mischievous glimmer returning to his bright blue eyes. __

_ __ _

__

“What’s the incantation?”

“It’s right here,” Gaius said, confusion plain in his voice as he slid the book towards the young warlock, “But Merlin, I don’t see what help that’s going to be if we don’t have the right components for the spell!”

“You just leave that to me!” Merlin called over his shoulder as he ran through the heavy oak door, a familiar hint of joy thickening his voice in a way that it hadn’t for a long time. 

Gaius sighed to himself, staring at the door for a moment before giving up and returning to his potions. He cared deeply for the boy, but at times he wasn’t sure what to think about all of the strange antics he somehow managed to always be caught up in. 

Meanwhile, Merlin was racing full tilt down the corridors, bumping into maids and other servants and tossing apologies behind him as he went. None of it mattered - he was finally, finally going to be able to help Arthur, and he was going to succeed, no matter the consequences. No matter if he was thrown in the dungeons or banished or burnt at the stake for using magic - it would all be okay, all be worth it, because Arthur would be alive. 

He skidded around one last corner, feet slipping and sliding as he struggled to retain a precarious sense of balance, then yelled in surprise as he stumbled to a halt inches away from a quite startled Guinevere standing in front of Arthur’s door.

“Merlin!” She cried. 

“Yep, that’s me.” He muttered, frustrated at the interruption - he had to get to Arthur!

“What are you doing running around like that? And at this time of night? You scared the daylights out of me!”

“Sorry, Gwen, it’s just- well, see, I’m in a bit of a hurry, so if I could-”  
“Merlin.” She cut him off, a small frown tugged at her lips. “Not before you explain to me what is going on here!”

“_Gwen_! I just- it’s- well, Arthur is-” The manservant cut off with a frustrated sigh, finally holding up the small bottle in his hand. “It’s a potion from Gaius, we think it may finally be able to help Arthur.” At this, Gwen’s face brightened considerably. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Merlin, that’s wonderful! Do you need help? Can I join you?”

“Ah, sorry, Gwen, but I think it’s better if you weren’t there.” He twisted his face into a grimace for extra dramatic effect. “The potion can have some… _nasty_ side effects that, well, you probably wouldn’t want to see.” __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Yes, yes, I- of course, that makes sense.” To Merlin’s embarrassment, he noticed her face turning ever so slightly green. “I have other work to do anyways. You know, busy time and all.” She chuckled nervously, then hurried off down the corridor - he thought he saw her put a hand to her mouth as she went. 

Feeling slightly guilty for lying to Gwen in such a way, and for her current state, Merlin pushed the door open quietly and slid into the room, bolting the door again behind him. The stillness of the air chilled him to the bone, the unnatural silence pressing threateningly in on him like he was sinking to the bottom of a deep lake. 

Echoes of memories flashed before his eyes, superimposing themselves in watery mirages against the stone walls before him. Memories of snarky remarks and of equally snarky retorts, of quarrels over the simplest and the gravest of matters, of thrown pillows and pitchers and plates and- well, pretty much everything- and of bickering dissolving into laughter and carefree chases that scrambled, giggling, all around the room. And then, memories of lingering glances, of the vulnerability and rawness as laughter faded into giddy silence, and how quickly those moment turned awkward; how quickly they had both, always, turned away. 

What would have happened, he wondered, if one of those times, he had simply refused to look away? If he had let blue eyes bore into blue, and poured every ounce of love and trust into those eyes as he could muster, and then some? If he had just overcome, for once, his own _stupid_ cowardice and actually let his feelings for Arthur lead him somewhere other than pain and loneliness? Just once would have been all it took. Once.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

But now was different - now, all of that happiness was in the past, and Arthur was lying still and cold and gray under his bedcovers, propped up on a disproportionate amount of pillows. His chest barely rose and fell with each breath, his strong and calloused hands lay limp at his sides, and his golden blonde hair looked ashen and tired. It couldn’t be denied any longer that Arthur was dying. 

And Merlin was hell-bent on changing that. He strode quickly over to the bedside, uncorking the potion as he went and somehow managing not to collide knock into anything on the way. He hesitated for a moment next to his King’s still body, letting his eyes drift up to his face, and then drop to his lips. 

Lips that were chapped and pale, and yet so achingly familiar in the way that they turned up slightly at the corners in a perpetual smirk of satisfaction - even in death. (Too many spare moments had been spent on furtive glances at those lips, enough that the young warlock had them quite memorized.) 

He shook himself out of his thoughts, and quickly dipped a finger into the potion. He smeared some across his own mouth, then gently reached out a delicate finger to put a small amount on Arthur’s forehead. Keeping his hand cupped around his head, fingers curled around soft blonde hair, Merlin bowed his own head and began to mutter in the language of the Old Religion. He breathed out the last words of the incantation, and his eyes flared with golden light. Then, taking a deep breath, he leaned forward and finally did what he had been yearning to do since the first days had arrived in Camelot - pressed his lips to Arthur’s. 

Even chapped, they were still as soft as Merlin had always imagined. He desperately wanted the moment to last longer, to prolong this one small bit of closeness he finally got to share with the King, but he knew that he could not. If the spell worked, Arthur could be waking up any second now, and this was not the situation that should greet him. 

So, haltingly, Merlin pulled away, chest aching at the loss. He stared intently at the other man’s face, searching desperately for any sign of life, of improvement. Finding none, he sighed and reached for a nearby stool, dragging it over for himself to sit on. 

It was going to be a long night.


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Arthur finally wakes up - but it doesn't exactly go to plan.

Arthur groaned softly as he slowly came into consciousness, feeling like he was trapped underwater and still trying to swim towards the light. He ached everywhere - his throat felt dry and raspy, his eyes sore and bloodshot, his tongue thick and swollen in his mouth, his head foggy and leaden. He groaned again as he blinked around, the sound tugging painfully at his unused vocal cords. Sunlight was filtering through a nearby window, the rays illuminating the room in a bright patchwork of shadow and light. 

With a monumental effort, he turned his head to survey the rest of the room, then flopping back onto the pillows. He was surprised to notice that he was not alone, as he had first thought; an unkempt mop of raven-colored hair was resting on the covers next to his leg, its owner sprawled unceremoniously between a small stool and his bed, breathing slowly and evenly. 

Arthur started to grin, then winced and abandoned the expression as he felt his severely chapped lips begin to crack. He opted instead for reaching out a hand and further messing up the unruly head of hair beside him, noticing subcounsciously that his strength was already starting to return.

“M- Merl-,” He broke off to cough weakly, voice unwilling to cooperate after going so long without use. “Merlin…” He finally managed. “Wake up…” Arthur punctuated each word with another rub on the manservant’s head. 

Said manservant grumbled something incoherently, cheek still mashed against the bed, then suddenly gasped and scrambled to his feet, breathing hard, bright blue eyes thrown open so wide that the deep purple bags beneath them were almost hidden. A light pink flush dusted his cheeks, and he gaped at Arthur for a moment, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water - for once, Merlin, always so witty and ready with a snarky comeback, was at a loss for words. 

“Arthur!” He finally managed to stutter. “I- You- You’re awake! Oh, thank god, I was so worried, Arthur!” Merlin lunged forward and enveloped the King in a bone-crushing hug, holding on for dear life, almost as though he thought Arthur would disappear if he let go. “Arthur, Arthur, Arthur… oh gods, _Arthur_… I don’t know what I would have done… _Arthur_…” By now Merlin was just muttering to himself, head buried in the other man’s shoulder. ____

_ _ __ _ _

_ __ _

“...Merlin.” Arthur finally said, clearing his throat softly. Immediately he jumped back, swallowing hard and hurriedly wiping away tears from red eyes.  
“_Oh_. I, um, sorry, Arthur- I mean, Sire- I mean, _oh_, I don’t know what I mean! I just- um. Sorry. I… overstepped my bounds. Got a bit carried away, you know.” He was focusing his gaze pointedly on the floor, his shoes, the bed; anywhere but Arthur. ____

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

“No, Merlin, it’s okay. It’s just, well,” Arthur shrugged and gestured to himself. “I’m not exactly fighting fit right now. You know, aches and pains.” Merlin chuckled softly, a hint of his trademark smirk fighting its way onto his lips as he opened his mouth to speak.

“Yes, almost dying does tend to have that effect every now and then.” Arthur laughed in return, this time ignoring the flash of pain as his mouth stretched. Merlin was what mattered. Merlin, in front of him, smiling and laughing and perfectly fine - just as Arthur relied on him to be. Just as Arthur loved him to be, as he had slowly come to realize over the past month or so. 

“Where is Guinevere?” He asked, watching as Merlin met his gaze with a quickly disguised flash of pain. 

“I don’t know exactly, but working somewhere. The last I saw her was yesterday night… Sire.” The servant swallowed and looked away again, having a harder time pushing the sadness from his eyes as time went on. 

“Good.” Arthur smiled as Merlin’s head shot up in surprise, brow furrowed.

“Good?”

“Yes, good. It means, _Mer_lin, that I got the answer I was looking for.”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

“I-” Merlin cut off in frustration, growling ever so slightly. “Yes, sire, I know what _good_ means. What I meant was, _why_? Why is it good that she’s not here?”____

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

“Because I want you here. Not her.” Arthur said simply, cocking his head and waiting for the other man’s reaction. He didn’t have to wait long - a blush spread quickly over Merlin’s cheeks and nose, turning even his ears a soft shade of red. The anger and loneliness drained from his expression, replaced by a cautious sort of hopefulness. 

“And… why is that?”

“God, Merlin, you’re hopeless!” Arthur huffed and pulled him over onto the bed so that they were across from each other. “I… well… agh, I’m not good at feelings.” He grumbled, frustrated, feeling his own face begin to heat up. A look at Merlin’s face, however, full of hope and apprehension and something else he couldn’t quite place, convinced him to keep going. 

“Look, Merlin. From the first day you arrived here, I always felt like there was something special about you - I even said so the first time we met, and that I couldn’t quite place it. You just have this way about you. You’re the only person I know who’s brave enough to insult me to my face, and you do it constantly, and, I’m not going to lie - it drives me up the wall.” Seeing the scared look on Merlin’s face, Arthur quickly backtracked. 

“But it’s not a bad thing, not all the time. It’s even kind of nice, a- a sort of reminder that I’m really just another person, you know? Because most people treat me so much differently, since I’m royalty, and it can be… refreshing, to hear something else every now and then. But Merlin, there’s so much about you that’s just amazing! I know I insult you a lot as well, but I never really mean it. You - you’re not at all clumsy, or stupid, or ugly, or any of it! You’re you, Merlin, and you’re the bravest, most wonderful, most…” He hesitated, then looked deep into the wide, bright blue eyes in front of him. “...most beautiful person that I have ever had the pleasure of meeting.”

“So then… what are you saying, Arthur?” Merlin shifted slightly, never breaking eye contact.

“I’m saying that, lately... well, it hasn't exactly been an easy few days." Merlin scoffed derisively at this, but didn't speak. "Almost dying - it really put things into perspective for me. I have come to realize that if I want something, I should just take it, because I have less time than I might think to do so." "I have also realized that you, Merlin, are the most important person in my life. Not my father, not any of the knights, not even Guinevere - you. You matter to me the most. Even with all your weird and occasionally horribly annoying quirks. Just- just you, Merlin. All of you.”

“Arthur…” Merlin whispered thickly, and Arthur could have sworn he saw a fleck of gold in his eyes as the servant gazed at him.

“Guinevere may be my love, Merlin, but you are my life.” A soft smile crossed the King's lips as he spoke. 

Finally abandoning all pretense, Arthur reached forward and wrapped a hand around the back of the other man’s neck, pulling him forward and gently pressing their lips together. Merlin stiffened in surprise, then slowly melted into the touch, unwittingly letting out a small whine from the back of his throat. He tentatively reached up and wrapped his arms around Arthur’s neck, deepening the embrace. Emotions whirled up inside of him unbidden, like a storm, and behind his closed eyelids, a light began to shine.

Golden sparks flickered to life around the two, dipping and weaving and multiplying until they were surrounded by a glittering web of shifting, twirling images - there one second and gone the next, already moved on to something new. It was like thousands of lamps floating around them, drifting and spinning, sending dazzling fragments of light and reflection every which way. 

Arthur opened his eyes, beginning to pull away, and then let out a small gasp and stared in wonder at the beautiful lights surrounding them. Merlin, however, leaned forward and buried his face in the warmth of the other man’s shoulder, shoulders shaking a bit as he gave a small chuckle.

“That… you have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for that, Arthur.” He breathed, nuzzling further into his spot.

“Merlin.” Arthur’s voice came out low and husky with fear and amazement. Merlin lifted his head slowly, then jolted back suddenly as he saw the sparks. His breath started coming in short gasps as he looked up at Arthur, eyes blown wide with panic as a gold glow faded from them, and the lights disappeared.

“No, no, no, no, no, no, _no_, oh god… oh no, this wasn’t how this was supposed to happen… you weren’t supposed to find out like this… _oh_ _god_…” Merlin muttered shakily, collapsing forward. His head fell between his knees, hands locking together behind his head, rocking quickly back and forth on his heels. With what felt like a stab in the chest, Arthur realized that he was trembling violently. ______

_ _ __ _ _

_ _ __ _ _

“Merlin…” He said again, quietly, reaching out a hand to touch Merlin’s shoulder and doing his best to be comforting. (It wasn't something he was overly familiar with.) 

Merlin jumped, as if he was startled out of a sort of trance, and looked up at Arthur again, tears streaming down his face. He took a few shaky breaths, opened his mouth as if to speak, and then let out a small, strangled sort of sound and scrambled backwards off of the bed. He tripped, almost on all fours as he sprinted towards the door, but he never stopped. 

“_Merlin_!” Arthur yelled, not caring who heard. The young sorcerer wrenched open the heavy oak door and paused, looking back, his red and tear-stained face like a knife to the gut. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

“Arthur, I… I’m sorry.” The words were soft and choked, but Arthur heard them. Then Merlin disappeared, footsteps receding quickly down the hall and into silence.

He didn’t bother to close the door.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys, thanks so much for reading! Again, feel free to comment your thoughts, I always appreciate feedback. I'm going to try and update this as consistently as possible, so we'll see how it goes. Also, do you want me to include smut in this fic? I'm on the fence - let me know what you think!


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Merlin and Arthur are both struggling to deal with these new developments in their own ways, with mixed results.

Arthur was conflicted. So horribly, utterly conflicted that it felt as though he was being torn limb from limb. His heart ached inconsolably, his scalp stung from pulling mindlessly at his hair, and his eyes and cheeks were reddened and raw from rubbing tears away. 

No matter how hard he tried, the tears just kept coming. 

Merlin. Merlin, of all people. He was a sorcerer. He had magic, he practiced magic. Magic was illegal in Camelot. Magic was dangerous, magic was  
evil, magic was a constant threat to his life and his throne. It was an ugly, violent force of chaos and destruction. He had always known this. It was cold, hard fact. 

And yet what had happened earlier was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Beautiful, wondrous, amazing - everything that, as far as he knew, magic was not. A small smile ghosted over his lips against his will just thinking about the warm glow of the golden sparks that had surrounded him and Merlin as they had kissed.

They had kissed; therein lay his other problem. Try though he might, he could not deny how he felt about Merlin. It was difficult to admit, to himself and especially to others, not to mention to Merlin himself - his confession earlier had been the most nerve-wracking thing he had ever done, which was saying something. His drowsiness from being asleep and on the brink of death for so long had probably helped loosen his tongue a bit. 

But he and Merlin could never be… could they? Two men together - he had never really heard of such a thing, other than men in the army sometimes keeping each other company while out on a long campaign. It helped with nerves, and to keep up morale - that was all. Aside from that, he was sure that it was something that would not be well looked upon. And on top of all that, Merlin was nothing but a simple servant, and he was the King! Personally, he didn’t care that much, but others in the court would never stand for it. Under normal circumstances, he would just leave all of this messy business behind him, not finding it worth the trouble. But Merlin was just so… _Merlin_, and he couldn’t quite bring himself to let that go. __

_ __ _

__

Even though everything he had ever seen and learned, and everything his father had ever told him, was screaming at him that Merlin was a sorcerer and was therefore evil, he simply couldn’t bring himself to believe it. All of his instincts rebelled against the very thought of it. All of the clumsy goofiness, the wide grins, the lingering glances - it was all too real. He was sure that sincerity like that was nigh on impossible to fake. And on top of that, his reaction when Arthur realized the truth spoke volumes about his feelings. Merlin had seem crushed, and terrified. An evil sorcerer, he was sure, would not react in such a way.

And if Merlin had wanted to kill him or bring him harm, there had been plenty of opportunity. Arthur trusted him more than anyone, so pretty much every hour of every day left him vulnerable to some sort of attack from the young warlock. Yet, as he now began to realize, Merlin opted for protecting him, without fail. He had always known that the servant protected him, or at least tried, and now he knew a bit more about just how much. 

So he had decided that Merlin was not evil, and could most likely be trusted. He definitely had some explaining to do, and Arthur definitely felt hurt that he had been lying for so long, but there was simply no way that Merlin was bad. However, not all magic-users were Merlin. The vast number of magical attacks on Camelot could not be denied, no matter the cause for them. There were good sorcerers, yes, but definitely not all. And the ones with ill intent tended to be far more motivated.

All of these thoughts just kept swirling around and around in Arthur’s head, pounding a painful staccato against his skull. He let his head drop into his hands, weary, and began unconsciously pulling at his hair again. Finally, he gave up and flopped back against his cushions. It was late, the night thick and silky black outside his windows, and he was exhausted. Sleep was his best option now - he could try to resolve all of this in the morning. 

Slowly, the world fell away around him, and he drifted into an uneasy slumber.

Arthur was woken up the next morning by the bright sun streaming in through his windows. Squinting blearily across the room, he wondered why the sun was so high in the sky, and yet Merlin hadn’t come to rouse him. Then he sighed heavily and flopped back onto his pillows as the night’s events came rushing back to him. 

Merlin was a sorcerer… 

There was no way around it. And if Merlin wasn’t going to come to Arthur, then Arthur had to go to Merlin.

Merlin, as it happened, was somewhere Arthur was incredibly unlikely to find him - down beneath the castle, talking to Kilgharrah, the Great Dragon. He was, to put it bluntly, a mess. His clothes were rumpled, his hair even more untidy than usual, sticking up at any number of odd angles. His eyes were red, his cheeks tear-stained and sore from being rubbed at. He had forgotten to bring a torch, and so was forced to use magic to conjure a light that was now suspended in the air above him.

Not that using magic mattered that much any more. Arthur knew, and he had found out under circumstances that were less than ideal. Just now he was probably planning all of the different gruesomely painful ways he could take revenge for all of Merlin’s years of lying and deception.

As the thought crossed his mind, Merlin choked back a dry sob and dropped to the ground. He had ruined everything; Arthur was surely furious with him, and now the ban on magic would never be lifted. Albion, the perfect and free land that he had hoped for and strived for all these years, the only thing keeping him from giving up and giving in to the horrible cruelty of the world, was never to be. He had failed, and on so many levels - he had failed his destiny, he had failed Kilgharrah, he had failed the druids and all the other magic-using people, he had failed himself, and most importantly (maybe most heart-breakingly), he had failed Arthur.

He had just… failed. 

“Young warlock.” Kilgharrah’s rumbling voice broke through the haze of his spiraling despair and self-hatred. “All is not lost. Destinies are not such fragile things. You, Merlin, are going to have to try harder than this to escape yours.”

Merlin glared disbelievingly up from between his fingers, his expression clearly showing just what he thought of what the dragon had said.  
“But there’s no way Arthur’s not absolutely furious with me! All this talk of destiny and whatnot aside, he’s not going to be this quick to outgrow Uther’s hatred of magic, and on top of that, Morgana just used magic to attack Camelot! She _killed_ Uther, and nearly killed Arthur - as much of a thick, idiotic clotpole as he is, there’s no way he’s going to overlook that!”__

_ __ _

_ __ _

Kilgharrah leveled a cold, yellow stare at him. Merlin could have sworn that he raised one scaly eyebrow, if that was even possible. 

“Do not be so quick to judge our young new king. What you said is true, but you and Arthur are two sides of the same coin. Your destinies are closely intertwined, whether you like it or not. Never forget that.” 

With a dry, rasping sound, the dragon unfolded great leathery wings and heaved himself off of the stone perch, accompanied by a cacophony of clanking chains and cracking rock.

“WAIT!” Merlin yelled, voice cracking and echoing in the vastness of the cave. “But what am I supposed to _DO_??” But the only thing that answered him was his own voice bouncing off the walls in the silence. __

_ __ _

_ __ _

Swearing under his breath, Merlin cut off the flow of magic to the light, and it gave way to darkness with a small _pop_. Still muttering to himself, he stomped from the cave; he bumped against the walls in the low lighting and cursed louder each time until he finally gave way to one ragged, prolonged scream that tore violently out of his stomach and chest, venting all of his anger and frustration and fear and sadness in one inarticulate jumble.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

Breathing hard, and feeling only marginally better, Merlin dragged his aching, exhausted body up the impossibly long staircase, deciding to take shelter in his room and figure this all out later.

He opened the door to his chambers slowly, his fatigued body yearning for the inviting softness of his bed, and finally, _finally_, some peace and quiet.__

_ __ _

_ __ _

What he got, however, was quite the opposite.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There are some touchy subjects that need to be discussed - arguments and fluff ensue.

Arthur was seated gingerly on the edge of Merlin’s bed, looking awkwardly around the small room. By the looks of it, he hadn’t been able to dress himself properly - he was wearing only a simple white nightshirt and a brown pair of breeches. 

Merlin, upon seeing this, instantly let out a squawk of surprise and slammed the door shut again. He stayed frozen in the doorway, breath coming in short gasps. He hadn’t planned for this! Arthur - the _King_ \- was sat on _his_ bed, and he had absolutely no idea what to do about it.____

__

_ _ _ _Could he play dumb? Act like nothing had ever happened, pretend it was just any normal day? Then he shook his head, dispelling the thought. The time was past for that. Could he-_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _His frantic attempts at improvisation were cut short when Arthur opened the door, regarding him with a small frown. Merlin gasped and froze once more, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“Get in here, Merlin.” Arthur ordered, opening the door wider. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _Merlin forced himself to not become a stuttering mess, instead letting his back straighten and some of his usual spunk return. _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“And why should I do that?” He asked, crossing his arms defiantly in front of his chest. He had already broken one of the foremost laws in Camelot just by existing - what was disobeying the King one more time, next to that?_ _ _ _

_ _ _ _“_Merlin_.” Arthur growled again, his eyes narrowing down to slits. Deciding that he had shown enough defiance, Merlin huffed and let himself be shown into the room, hearing the door slam shut behind him. He still refused to turn to face Arthur, though, facing instead towards his small window and trying to maintain his confident air.___ _

_ _ _ _ _ _In reality, he was trembling with fear on the inside, ready to bolt at the slightest provocation. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“Merlin…” Arthur sighed heavily, then continued. “We need to talk. But you’ve been avoiding me, so here I am.”_ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I’ve been avoiding you for good reason!” Merlin said vehemently, whirling around. He saw Arthur open his mouth to speak, and put up a hand to cut him off. “For once in your life, would you just listen to what I have to say?” _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _The blonde hesitated, eyes flicking uncertainly down to the floor and back up, then nodded slowly. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I know you saw what happened the other night, so there’s no point in hiding it anymore - I’m a sorcerer. I have magic.” Merlin spread his arms wide, glaring at Arthur as though he was daring him to speak up. He didn’t. “But before you drag me down to the dungeons to cut my head off, or burn me at the stake, or whatever it is you’re going to do, just… well, you should know that I’ve always had magic. I was born with it. I didn’t choose it.” He stared stubbornly at a knot in the wood floor, jaw clenching as he forced away the tears that were pricking at his eyes. _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _“I didn’t choose… I didn’t want to be born a _monster_. Before I could even talk, far before I could know what it meant, I was moving things around with just a glance. Stones, sticks, my pillow,” He smiled softly. “My mother’s favourite water jug, pretty much anything I threw a tantrum at. And now I’m here, in Camelot, and I wouldn’t change it for the world… wouldn’t leave _you_ for the world… but I’m risking everything by being here. Just by being born, I’m breaking one of the most important laws here, and so many times I’ve almost been killed just for saving _your_ sorry behind.” Merlin finally looked up, tears clinging to his eyelashes. “I didn’t choose this, Arthur.”_______ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He gazed down at his hands, face contorted with a heart-wrenching muddle of emotions, and swallowed thickly. “I didn’t want… have _never_ wanted… to be like _this_. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ ___

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Merlin, don’t be stupid. I’m not going to have you killed.” Arthur tried to speak as he normally did, but something else made it through - something Merlin couldn’t quite place. “Strange as it is for me, I realize now that not all magic is bad. It’s something that I’ve been struggling with for years now, and you’ve helped me with it. I want to thank you for that.” Merlin gave him a cocky grin to disguise the hope that flared in his eyes - and was then quickly snuffed out by the King’s next words._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“But, be that as it may… I can’t make magic legal in Camelot.”_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“What?!” Merlin barked, hot anger boiling up in his stomach, fear and sadness constricting his throat. This was it; he had failed. Albion would never become a reality. Apparently, destinies were such fragile things._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I’m sorry, Merlin, but now it’s your turn to hear me out.” Arthur said firmly, trying his hardest not to let his helplessness at his friend’s distress enter his voice. Merlin folded his arms, setting his jaw and regarding him with stony eyes. Taking that as a cue to begin, he opened his mouth to speak. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Like I said, I realize now that not all magic is bad. But that’s not to say that none of it is. Look, Merlin, you can’t deny the number of magical attacks there are on Camelot. This last one killed my father, almost killed me, and it even came from within our family. _Morgana_, of all people. Magical and non-magical, people are dangerous, and the ban on magic is one of the best ways I have right now of protecting us - of keeping us _safe_. Is that important to you? Because the safety of my people is the most important thing to me. And, like it or not, I’m going to ensure that however I see fit. I’m the _King_ now, Merlin, so that’s my job. And I intend to do it.”_______ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes, Sire.” Merlin bit back an angry tirade of protests and stared longingly at his bed, chewing his lip. There was a grain of sense to what he was saying, though he could find quite a lot of problems with it. And he didn’t feel like arguing; he was exhausted as it was, and self-centered clotpole as Arthur was, he would only make it worse. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Arthur searched the servant’s face for a moment, knowing that he was holding something back. It pained him to see the younger man so defeated, since his rebellious spark had been part of what drew them together in the first place, but he decided that now was not the time to push it. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _And anyways, there was one more thing that Arthur wanted to discuss - the kiss. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Merlin stepped forward and flopped tiredly onto his mattress, his face mashed uncomfortably against his pillow, but unable to muster the will to move it. He felt the bed dip as Arthur sat down by his legs, and grunted._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Was there something else you wanted to say?” He muttered, his speech slurred by his still-smushed face. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes, actually. I… the other night. The, ah… the- _our_ kiss. We kissed.” Arthur’s cheeks began to heat up, and he fought not to let it show.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Ah.” Merlin deemed this worthy of movement, and finally dragged himself over to lay on his back. “Stellar observation, my lord, really.” He was going to continue, possibly something about getting Arthur on a research team of sorts, but Arthur shot him a look that cut off his sarcastic rambling. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“_Mer_lin. For once in your miserable life, do _shut up_.” (Arthur defaulted to insults and orders whenever he was anxious, or sad, or- well, pretty much feeling any emotion at all.)_____ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Yes, _sire_.” Even exhausted, Merlin could still muster impressively annoying levels of sass.___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“The golden sparks that appeared. That was you, right? What… what was that?” Arthur decided to ignore his servant’s continued snarkiness._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“Oh, that. Um… well, it kind of just _happens_, you know, whenever I feel strong emotions.” Merlin blushed. “I can’t really help it, it just sort of… wells up and spills over at the edges, I guess. It’s only ever positive emotions - I’m not fully sure what would happen with a negative one.” ___ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _What he didn’t say was that he had an idea, and wasn’t too keen on finding out whether it was correct._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“And if you were to feel those strong emotions, could you do it again?” Arthur glanced over at Merlin through half-lidded eyes, his tongue flicking out quickly to wet his lips._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“I… yeah, I guess so. Why?” Merlin didn’t have time to wonder however, as Arthur leaned down and gently cupped the back of his neck, pulling him into a kiss.  
It started out soft and slow and tender, with a hint of uncertainty. Then Merlin pushed himself up onto his elbows, never breaking the kiss, and pulled Arthur closer with his teeth around his bottom lip. Arthur groaned at the sudden flash of pain, and the warlock took the opportunity to deftly slip his tongue into the other man’s mouth. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _Arthur nearly groaned again as he felt Merlin’s lips and tongue sliding against his, working at him with an experience that he didn’t want to think too much about. Then he decided that the servant had been in control long enough, and began attacking Merlin’s mouth with a renewed fervor. _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _He moved his hand from the servant’s neck to his soft dark hair, closing his fingers around it and pulling slightly, then eagerly swallowing all of the small whimpers and mewls of pleasure that Merlin let slip. Finally, reluctantly, he pulled away, both of them gasping for air through red and swollen lips. Their eyes met, two startling shades of blue competing for dominance, and a spark of understanding passed through the gaze that both were determined to hold longer than the other._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _“So?” Arthur said, still not looking away._ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _

_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _In place of an answer, Merlin let a shimmering golden glow creep into his eyes, still locked onto the other’s. A sparkling mirage of a miniature dragon appeared, soaring effortlessly around them and breathing small spurts of fire, until it came to rest on Arthur’s nose._ _Arthur jumped back and shook his head, startled - and was the first to break eye contact. Merlin, ever the epitome of a subtle and mature adult, stuck his tongue out.________________________________

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I'm trying to get the italics to work with me in the Archive formatting, but they're not. No idea why. It's kind of annoying, I feel as though it takes away from the story. *shrugs* Oh well, technology is stupid.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey guys, so this is my first fic - let me know what you think, I'm pretty excited to be posting this! Also feel free to point out any errors that you might notice, I'm proofreading a bit sporadically so I'm sure there are some. I'm going to try to update as often as I can, but I want this to be the best it can be and I don't have a lot of free time, so we'll see how it goes. Thanks for reading!


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